You’re not dead, Wendell.
Great, Wendell thought exasperated, voices in my head. And where’s the light? I thought you saw a light when you died.
You’re not dead.
What do you mean? A fist-sized diamond just went through my chest! I could hear it. I felt the bones snap, then it went dark! Of COURSE I’m dead!!
No. You are not. Not yet.
Not yet? He could even whimper in his thoughts.
Wake up, Wendell.
Wait—who is this?
We are you.
Then he saw it: the light. It was growing. No, it was getting closer. Oh good, it’s coming to me…at least the pain is over.
Wendell, you need to wake up.
Tazered…kidnapped by an ugly, smelly, short, but very strong, mean, green monster…taken to another planet… His thoughts casually meandered through the events of his last hour in life. …meet a blue guy, hairy legs first, who wants to give me something…a treasure…a floating diamond the size of my fist. ‘Accept the gift, Wendell.’ All you have to do is ‘accept the gift’ and it can leave with you! Yeah, IN YOUR CHEST! The blue man lied to me. He tricked me! Just accept the biggest diamond I have ever seen in my life? He would have hyperventilated…if he was still breathing. I wish someone had pointed out the fine print on that agreement!
[Those ‘accepting this “gift”’ may experience certain side effects that may include levitation, being physically restrained by magic lights while being impaled in the chest with a cold, bloodsucking, talking diamond. Serious side effects may include broken bones, blood, gore, falling from extensive heights, loss of breath and loss of life.]
I wasn’t dreaming. I was the chump. And, now, I’m dead. I wonder how Mom and Evan are going to take it? Will they know I was kidnapped or just think that I disappeared? he paused in his thoughts as his mother’s face floated in front of him. I hope they don’t worry for too long.
You are not dead, Wendell.
Stop saying that!
Be at peace, Wendell. You’re putting a great deal of stress on your body. Focus on something that brings you comfort. Something that will make you happy.
Something ‘happy’?
Yes. Concentrate. We will help you. Just focus…so you can wake up. You need to wake up.
Wendell drifted for a moment before reaching out to his favorite memory.
The darkness around him faded to reveal a vast forest landscape expanding as far as he could see. They were camping in Island Park, Idaho, his favorite place in the whole world. Inhaling, Wendell could smell the slight hint of skunk mixed with pine and wild grass in the fresh morning breeze. He had replayed this day is his mind many times and knew this moment well. He was sitting with his dad on the bank of the river, fishing poles in hand, taking turns telling jokes and laughing so hard his dad was choking and Wendell had to pee.
Go to that memory, Wendell. We are almost complete.
It felt good, reliving this moment where the only things that mattered were his father and the peaceful world that God had created around them. Winking at him, his father boasted of how proud he was of his boy.
Wendell searched his father’s face. It didn’t feel the same now, because the future had already played out. His father already knew. He was never going to tell Wendell about the cancer. Wendell knew now there was less than a month left. The hero of Wendell’s life would soon be gone, but there was always today. He smiled back with all the love his heart could muster, not wanting to spoil their time. Today was perfect.
After his dad died, Wendell had remembered this day, thinking divine hands crafted this moment just so he would have these memories to help him heal.
That’s it Wendell…you’re moving in the right direction.
Distracted, the sounds began to fade, the moment slipping from his awareness. Wendell was being pulled away. Wait. I’m not ready. Please. Gathering his consciousness, he struggled, wishing he could resist but it was too hard. An intense urgency pushed him away, stole his memory, leaving him momentarily bewildered.
Abruptly, Wendell found himself thrust back on the bank of the river. Searching, it was not as he had remembered. He was alone. The day was no longer clear or warm, and dirty, odious clouds were advancing across the sky.
Distraught, he became aware of his immediate surroundings and caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows from the corner of his eye. Eerily, only in his peripheral vision could he detect the shadow drawing closer, taunting him, before it vanished again. Something was hiding from him. Wendell’s heart beat faster as the shadow advanced, straining his ears to hear the sound of foot fall.
Thumped swiftly on the back, Wendell jolted toward the edge of the water. He reached out to grab a limb from a nearby shrub and missed. Making his senses shrink, a foul, sticky breath caressed his neck before he struck the water. The clear, nefarious voice, laughing in cruel mockery.
THIS ISN’T YOUR FIGHT, BOY.
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?
GO HOME…OR YOU AND THOSE
WHO LOVE YOU WILL SUFFER.
Wendell was falling. But he never felt the cold splash of the river.
It is complete—we are one.
THUD!
Instantly, with an unexpected clarity, Wendell was corporeally aware of being awake. I’m alive! He felt alert and his mind clear. Whew! No extra voices.
Wendell opened his eyes to look around.
Rather, that’s what he would have done, if he could. Why can’t I open my eyes? He panicked. Am I alive? Pausing in thought he waited. Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump-thump. Th-thump-thump. Aroused at hearing his heart beat, he was exhilarated, the peculiar third beat pumping an unfamiliar vitality through his veins. A single tear rolled from his eye, across his temple. Ok, I am alive. Why can’t I open my eyes?
Wendell inwardly struggled, first to lift his head and then his arms. Anything? Quickly, he tried to move any part of his body but it wouldn’t respond. Nada. Limp as a rag doll, Wendell was without the ability to even twitch. Mentally, he groaned. Paralyzed, with a splash of blindness. Great!
Trapped inside himself, Wendell had no idea of where he was or what had happened. Think, think, think—what happened? Hitting the floor. Hitting my head. Maybe I have brain damage! But my head doesn’t hurt.
Actually, when he stopped to think about it, nothing hurts. Doing a quick mental check, not a single thing.
His thoughts refocused on the extra beat of his heart. Then remembering the treasure, A diamond went through my chest! How can I be alive after that? He had a gnawing desire to look at his chest, feel the skin or hole but his arms felt as if they had been strapped down with lead to a cold floor.
AAARGH! This blasted floor is so cold! Yet, his skin burned with irritation from an itchy sensation over the front of his body. SPIT! He ached to scratch—vigorously.
With each passing moment, Wendell felt a growing awareness of his skin. I can feel…my bare butt. And it’s frozen to the floor.
With a start, Wait a minute….I’M NAKED!! WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!
Wendell tried again to open his eyes. But they still didn’t want to respond. Being naked was embarrassing and frankly, cold, but he wanted to be able to move and the helplessness was making him angry.
Pushing and straining against his bondage, his thoughts were so noisy with sighs, grunts, and cursing, that he did not at first perceive the movement and conversing around him until it was right above his head. He was not alone.
“Don’t look at me like that—I’m not the one who lied to the kid!”
The rough, grisly voice sounded familiar to Wendell. It was pacing near his head.
“Didja bother to check the kids pulse?” it asked.
“He didn’t hit his head THAT hard,” came the reply. Wendell recognized that voice instantly, the blue liar, a.k.a. the High Elder. “Just give him a few more minutes to complete the alignment with the Ithäri. He will awaken soon, this is all part of the healing process. Finish your report. You don’t bel
ong in the Key. Has Thulle ceased his advance?”
“Thulle doesn’t stop, he just changes his tactics.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” the High Elder prodded impatiently. “Is the report true?”
“If he’s moving on the Dwarves, I’d be stumped how it’d be done. I saw the broken Prime Gate with my own eyes.” Wendell’s stomach churned as he recognized the voice of the little green monster known as Dax. “No, that crafty scum bucket has something else going on and I can’t figure out what,” continued Dax. “Something big’s gonna happen when he pops up, I can feel it to my toes.”
Wendell could feel scrutinizing eyes on him. “Maybe I should just give the kid a good kick and see if he flinches.”
Finding his gumption, I may not be able to move, but I can still hear you! Still naked, limp and lifeless on the cold floor, Wendell focused indignantly all his attention inward. Come on body—MOVE, blast you!
Not even a twitch.
“You will do no such thing, Dax!” barked the High Elder sharply. “This child represents our greatest hope. The Ithäri accepted him as host, and as such, he will be treated with the respect his position deserves.”
Turning away from the High Elder, Dax leaned over Wendell’s head, his immense ears straining to hear an almost non-existent sound.
“Hey—didja hear that?” he said. “It’s the kid—he’s mumbling to himself.”
Wendell could smell the hot, nasty breath of dirty ashtrays and rotting fish. His stomach heaved—and he clenched his eyes tighter.
Ahhhh…movement! he thought with glee. He could feel his limbs begin to tingle and warm. Well, except for his BEhind. But stimulation was good. Stimulation meant he was alive.
All he had to do now was open his eyes. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, yet. Could this really be happening? Being transported to another planet, ugly little green guys, normal size blue guys, magic and invisible dragons only seemed a reality for his undisciplined imagination.
As usual, whether he thought he was ready or not, something else took charge, throwing him into a mess. His hand, of it’s own accord, suddenly flipped up from his side and slapped down, fast and hard over his eyes.
“WOAH!” cried Dax, falling back from Wendell’s immediate vicinity. “Well, he’s waking up.”
“Thank the Makers! I admit that I was feeling a little anxious. The last recorded transformation was instantaneous, not 24 hours!” the High Elder exclaimed, sounding relieved.
Wendell surprised himself when his own eyes abruptly popped open behind his fingers and “I’M ALIIIIVE! AND I’M NAKED!” erupted from his throat.
Dax fell back over his own feet in surprise. Blurting out curses, he gripped his chest to steady his pounding heart.
“Well THERE he is!” the High Elder beamed. “Limbs starting to work again, I see.”
Wendell wanted to sit up and look around and compulsively felt his body being pulled forward until he was sitting upright. The heavy woolish blanket that had been covering him fell into his lap. Looking around, he confirmed that he was still in the stone room, lit by torches, the stone hands above his head were still palm down with fingers spread, the High Elder and Dax standing next to him.
“Watch yourself, my young friend,” the Elder said, reaching out to steady him. “Try and relax. Take slow, deep breaths. Your muscles may twitch or even feel as if they’re burning as you start using them, but it will quickly pass. They’re not used to the constant stimulation of the Gem’s natural regeneration. Immortality, after all, isn’t for the faint of heart.”
“Immortality?” said Wendell, raising his hand to his chest. Yup, there it is. Fingering the diamond that was buried in his chest, “It’s real,” he mumbled softly to himself, a small shudder falling through his body as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Slowly, he lowered his head and his eyes walked their way to the perfectly round object protruding slightly from the center of his chest. His mind was so preoccupied he barely noticed Dax taking his leave.
“Let me know how the kid turns out,” he said, turning his mind to the peanut butter and sardine sandwich waiting for him. “I got me places to go and things to do.”
The High Elder nodded to Dax before turning his full attention to Wendell.
Dax snapping his fingers had Wendell’s full attention. Wendell looked over to see a thin, vertical line appearing next to Dax. Having a purpose all its own, it stretched, tearing and burning an oval hole in mid-air, expanding to reveal an unnatural and empty blackness. Dax paused for a moment in the doorway. He glanced back at Wendell and then the High Elder, shaking his head, a look of concern on his face before he stepped into the blackness and disappeared. The hole slammed shut behind him.
BAMPH!
“The transition can be strenuous,” informed the High Elder. “How do you feel?”
“Strenuous?!?” Wendell choked, finding his voice. He looked down at the diamond. It caught the light as he moved, reflecting little rainbows onto the floor and walls. Great, I can hire myself out as a Disco Ball. He shook the image out of his head. “I feel naked for starters. What did you do with my clothes?”
Chuckling, the High Elder explained patiently. “The old cloth was consumed. When the Ithäri merged with you,” he paused with raised eyebrows as Wendell snorted, “there was a purifying process that took place. In bringing your existence up to its own level, your blood was altered and the heat of the purification incinerated the cloth on your skin.” Pausing for maximum impact he added, “For a time, you were encompassed in flames.”
Wendell thought the High Elder looked comical nodding and raising his eyebrows waiting for him to be impressed. Thoughts of rolling around in agony and screaming for help popped into his head. Wendell examined his arms for burns. If it were true, he couldn’t tell. So, he shook that image out of his head, too.
With a wave of the High Elder’s hand, stones in the floor near their feet shifted and swirled into a small tornado of sand. Wendell watched in amazement as grain by grain the sand added to itself, forming into a simple trunk of deep brown wood, complete with tarnished metal hinges and latch. The High Elder knelt to open the trunk, pulled out clothes, and tossed them to Wendell. Both pants and shirt were pale yellow with light brown trim, light weight and thin.
“See if those will do,” he said turning back to the trunk. “Let me see if I have sandals as well.” Wendell, taking advantage of the moment when the elder’s back was turned, jumped up and slipped the loose fitting pants on under the blanket. He pulled the rope drawstring tight and slid into the shirt.
Making a quick assessment, Wendell jiggled in his new clothes, surprised that he felt really good. Strong and confident. This must be how Evan feels.
But the apprehension in his mind needed answers. It was like asking the school bully to walk him home, Wendell didn’t like his options. He had no choice but to get answers from the man who had lied to him.
“Where am I?”
The High Elder looked at Wendell, dumbfounded.
“Seriously. Where am I?” he repeated.
“Wendell, I don’t think you…”
“LOOK,” he interrupted. “I don’t care what you think. I played by your rules, did what you said and look at me. LOOK AT ME!” Wendell pulled at the neck of his shirt bitterly. “I want to know where I am and how I got here. Answer my question, please.”
Sighing, the High Elder sat down heavily on the trunk. Sand once again rose into the air, forming miniature spheres above their heads. Taken aback, Wendell stared. Strange globes of various sizes and colors rotated around a white sun, forming a solar system unknown to Wendell.
“You are on a planet very far from the home you knew. This planet is called Iskäri-Käläm,” he pointed to a small red sphere. “We are actually a moon revolving around the largest sphere in our system, Elämä, along with our sister moon, Umbra-Gem. Earth has not even discovered our system in its skies yet.”
Wendell watched the rotating spheres, digesting in silence.
“Dax was chosen to bring you back because of his unique magical skill of teleportation.”
Impatiently, Wendell tapped on his chest and asked, “What is this? and don’t tell me ‘a treasure’.”
“Her name is Ithäri,” the High Elder began. “The symbiotic relationship with each of the first born male descendants of your bloodline goes back many, many generations to a covenant she made with Arödrin, your forefather, to protect the people against slavery and extinction.”
“Wait, you said ‘host’. And did you say ‘altered’ before? What the heck did it alter?” He abruptly turned his back on the High Elder and did a self check, patting himself down. He sighed with relief, Ok, all accounted for.
Wendell let his hand rest on the gem, “What’s an Ithäri?”
The High Elder sighed, “Haven’t you been listening to what has been said?”
Wendell gritted his teeth, “SURE I’ve been paying attention! An old blue guy in a dress conned me into saying a magic sentence that woke up a blood sucking diamond that attacked me and then decided to nest IN MY FREAKIN’ BODY! Oh, and by the way, the freakiest part is, I’M NOT DREAMING!!” His face flushed with anger, his eyes becoming wild. “Forgive me for not drinking all this in and thanking you for it!” Wendell didn’t try to disguise his disgust.
Raising an eyebrow, the High Elder cleared his throat, choosing his next words carefully. “Yes, well,…the Ithäri is the gem you carry. It is her name and as I said, she is alive.”
Wendell pulled back the neck of his shirt and looked down at the gem again. He totally blew me off! Impulsively, he pulled his shirt up under his chin, scratching at the edges with his fingernails trying to get a grip. No luck. So using both hands to push and pinch aggressively on either side, he tried to pop it out like a zit. Ouch! Again, no luck.
His head flopped forward with a sigh of defeat. “So, I have a girly leech in my chest.”
“What you have is power from the Gods through this ancient relic,” the High Elder emphasized each individual word.
Wendell just stared at the gem. “So I have a really, really old girly leech in my chest. Ok, so how do I get it out?”
“Get it out? YOU are missing the point! The Gem is a conduit to provide you with knowledge, powers and abilities unequaled! It originally bound itself to your ancestor before the Great Sundering!”
“I believe YOU’RE missing the point,” Wendell snapped, exasperated, “that I’m just a kid who still doesn’t understand what the crud YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! Gods? Ancient relic? Great Sundering?” Wendell repeated mockingly. “You talk like I’m supposed to know this stuff!!”
Undaunted, the High Elder quickly composed himself. “These are things you will learn in due time. As long as you are the host, you can live…forever.
“You now have the greatest collection of wisdom, knowledge and power ever bestowed upon a mortal,” the High Elder continued. “You have access to the collective knowledge of all the previous Heroes ever connected to the Ithäri. The universe and all creation can now be saved!”
Wendell was speechless. Not because he lacked something to say, but because he couldn’t choose what to say. None of this mattered the slightest bit and it was wearing on him. He was feeling more than a little frustrated. His tongue and imagination unhinged, “So, how do I get this thing out of my chest and get home?”
Eyes wide with excitement, the High Elder put an arm around Wendell and pulled him in close. The rascally-triumphant smile, that Wendell was learning to hate, upon his face, “BY FIGHTING THE FORCES OF DARKNESS!” he shouted, while shaking his fist in the air.
“WOAH!!” Wendell coughed, pointing an accusing finger. “You didn’t say anything about fighting,” he gasped. “Especially against any forces of darkness! YOU SAID THERE WAS NO CATCH!!”
The High Elder shrugged his shoulders. “I said, the gem is not mine to bargain with. It belongs to you and you alone, Wendell. My duty is only to make sure you received what was rightfully yours, no more.”
He was being manipulated. Wendell’s body started to shake uncontrollably, the heat rising to his face. He was furious. He glared at the High Elder, his fists clenched. If the old man was any closer, Wendell would have lunged at him and taken a wild swing. Livid indecision possessed his thoughts, but as the silent moments passed he felt a warm, soothing strength flow through his body. Against his will his pulse slowed and the shaking stopped. What is happening to me!?
“Y-you can’t do that! You,…aren’t you some kind of Holy Man or something? That’s WRONG!!” He could feel the heat rising again, turning his face red. Wendell looked like a beet. The veins in his forehead throbbed with the pressure.
“Actually, no,” said the High Elder calmly.
“AAAARGHH!” Wendell screamed, clenched fists pumping. “Look, bucko—I want to go home!”
“Nevertheless,” he whispered, “the task of battling the Dark Lord is now yours.” Again, infuriating Wendell with his calm tone.
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Wendell stammered. “You can’t make me do this! I refuse to stand here with the wind blowing between my legs as your puppet!”
“You have the power to do anything you want, Wendell,” smirked the High Elder.
“Fine. I want to go home, live with my mom and forget all of this,” he said, proud of his clever retort.
The High Elder raised an eyebrow. “Okay…almost anything you want.”
“What if I don’t WANT to be your Hero? Doesn’t that matter?! Can’t we give this thing in my chest to someone else?” Pleading, Wendell slowly ran quivering fingers over his chest and traced the hard surface of the gem. The surface was warm and the soothing strength poured through him again, but this time there was a comforting familiarity accompanying it. She was trying to befriend him and he quickly pulled his hand away. Appalled, the idea occurred to him that he may actually have to find a way out of this on his own.
He turned to the High Elder, trying to soften his voice. “Does this thing have to use me?” he asked, hopeful that his personal skill at looking pathetic would gain some sympathy. “I mean, isn’t there some kind of backup plan? A way to get the gem to someone who actually cares about all this stuff you’re talking about?”
“Well,” replied the High Elder, “in times of great peril the Gem does have the ability to accept an alternative to fulfill her purpose. But her power would be severely limited, even hindered. So, I find that very unlikely. The full measure of power is reserved for the pure bloodline alone, through the covenant. Would you risk all this and walk away with so much at stake?”
“Yeah, well, I’m not so sure I buy all that. How do I know you aren’t just lying to me again?” Wendell grumbled.
“I have never lied to you.” The High Elder continued softly, “Nor would it be that simple. Once the Gem has accepted a host, it cannot be removed by any outside force.”
“Do I have any options?”
The High Elder’s countenance fell and Wendell worried for him, but only for a moment. Disengaging his mind and emotions from this conversation the High Elder explained that there were three ways to remove the Gem and each choice would rely on Wendell’s own efforts. “You are, from this point forward, in control.”
“Fine. Good. I can handle options.” Relieved, yet suspicious, Wendell’s stomach did a little flip before he managed to restore his composure. “What do I have to do?”
The words weighed heavily on the High Elders heart. He stalled as he picked up the blanket and tossed it toward the trunk. Slowing in the air, it folded itself and landed softly, the lid sealing before collapsing into a pile of sand and melting into the floor through the seams of stone.
“There are three ways the Ithäri will release you,” said the High Elder. “The first is when evil is defeated and harmony can return to the cosmos. The Gem will return here to Sanctuary and the care of this Council until such a time as she may be needed once more. This is the reason you were brought here.”
The High Eld
er paused and tossed a hopeful glance to Wendell with that last remark.
Wendell shook his head no. “Go on.”
“The second is if you reject the Hero mantle, the Gem will reject you. In this case, you will have to wait for one revolution of the moon and then the Gem will fall from your chest. Hopefully, during that time you will feel a connection with the Ithäri and change your mind.” He looked over to find Wendell completely unemotional, his head lowered, eyes locked upon the Elder from under his creased brow.
“Not likely,” he muttered, “but it sounds like the best plan so far. Wait a month!? Didn’t want to wait that long, but I guess I could cope. What’s the third way?”
The High Elder paced in silence for a few moments, fingers pressed together in front of his chest.
“Elder?” Wendell cleared his throat, trying to prompt him. “What’s the third way?”
“The third way is death. That, of course, is not an option.” The High Elder made his way to the doorway and motioned Wendell to follow. “Shall we find something to eat? You must be hungry by now.”
Good, it’s settled. I’ll bide my time for a month and then I’m outta here. Hope my mom will be okay until I get home.
CHAPTER 6
DISTRACTED
To endure circumstances beyond our control, sometimes we need the right distraction.
Prelude to a Hero (Chronicles of a Hero 1) Page 5
